I extend my hands. “Trust me.”
Jyn sits upon the ledge, takes a deep breath, and then allows herself to fall.
I catch her, my hands at the dip of her waist as she circles my neck with her arms. She is by no means light and crashes into me with the full force of a… well, a dragon. Jyn knocks me off my feetand I land hard on my backside, but I’m more than happy to take the brunt of the fall.
It feels like heaven.Shefeels like heaven. Jyn fits comfortably in my hold, the scent of her jasmine-scented hair filling my nose. For but a moment, I lose myself in the brilliance of her eyes and the softness of her skin. My gaze flits down to her lips, lingering there far longer than it should.
Perhaps Idohunger.
And apparently, I’m not the only one.
Jyn stares at me with just as much intensity, the tips of her fingers lightly grazing the line of my jaw. Her lashes flutter as she studies my face, her walls momentarily crumbling. Finally, I can sense her contentment. What I wouldn’t give to stay with her like this, just for a while longer. What a shame our surroundings are far from idyllic.
“Jyn.” Her name is a soft murmur on my tongue.
A mistake, for this breaks the spell we’re under.
Her cheeks flush, suddenly a light dusting of pink. Jyn clears her throat, her brows knitting into their usual frown. “Let me go.”
I do so, releasing my arms from around her. I struggle onto my feet first and offer my hand, biting back relief—and even a little glee—when she takes it without a fuss. Between us, our thread glows a soft crimson. Still not quite mended, nor as bright as I have seen in others, but certainly a welcome change from its usual dreary shade.
I take a single step forward on what I now realize is not the cave floor, buttile, and the sole of my shoe clacks against its cool surface. I look about, amazed to find that we have somehow ventured into what I can only describe as a forgotten library.
The walls are high and the ceiling domed. Rows upon rows of bookshelves fill the structure, stuffed full of old bamboo scrollsand books of leather binding. We’re at the very top, at least a hundred levels descending below us. I can’t see the bottom. A thick layer of dust covers every available surface, and our feet leave prints on the grimy floors.
“What is this place?” I ask. My voice carries across the bottomless athenaeum, echoing back at me. It sounds like an entire army of me, whispering in mirrored fascination.
Jyn limps toward the railing carved of granite and peeks over the edge. “The Lost Library of the Albeion Monks.”
I stare at her, perplexed. “The old legend? But what’s it doing all the way out here?”
“The Western Wastelands were not always empty. The last time I was here…”
She pauses, noticing me hanging on her every word.
“Please, go on.”
She takes a deep breath. “They used to be everywhere, the monks. They built monasteries all across the lands. They were dedicated scholars as well as devout practitioners, determined to share their knowledge with the world. This is said to be their largest archive. Or at least, it was, once.”
“Lost to time, it seems.” I run my hand over the nearest wall, wiping away dust. My palm comes away black. “But how did it end up down here?”
“You tell me. What does the legend say?”
I search my memory, thinking back to a time when A-Ma was in the kitchen, busy cooking as she treated me to a story. She always liked to talk while she worked, unable to bear long stretches of silence. It’s a good thing she happened to have such a chatty son.
“Many centuries ago,” I recount aloud, “the lands were ravaged by war. It swept across the Five Kingdoms, bringing with it total destruction. The Albeion monks supposedly fled across thesea for their safety, but, unwilling to let their knowledge fall into the wrong hands, they cast a spell to make their library vanish.” I glance toward her. “How much of that is truth?”
Jyn gives me a weak smile. “All of it.”
I wonder about all the things she must have seen in her life. All the civilizations she’s witnessed rise and fall. The hundreds of battles fought between kingdoms that no longer exist on the map…
All the people she’s loved and lost.
We start down toward the winding staircase leading to the lower floors. It’s a great and arduous task to descend, for her twisted ankle makes for clumsy steps. Jyn and I manage a single flight before I turn to her and ask, “Will you allow me to carry you?”
She hesitates. “You’re injured, too, Sai. I can handle myself.”
“I’m feeling better,” I insist, and genuinely mean it. I don’t understand why, but my rapid healing has me feeling like a new man. My finger is fully regrown, my throat is no longer sore, and my muscles are mostly refreshed. Apart from my overwhelming thirst, I’m right as rain. I suspect that the blood Jyn had me drink days ago is at the root of my miraculous recovery.
